I won’t deny that Sundays have been a little rough lately. More than anything, I miss singing.

This morning, I watched the live stream of the music portion of a church service. My spirit sank as I thought about the events that transpired a few weeks ago that led me to sitting on my couch on Sunday mornings.

Rather than sit in sadness, my husband and I went for a run. We’ve started training for the Mercedes half-marathon, and decided to run farther than usual. While there was a nice cloud cover, the air was warm and humid. By mile three, as I was running and praying, I asked God for a breeze. My thoughts camped there for a minute. I’d been praying about a situation involving my singing in which I want God to do a new work…not a makeover, not more of the same, but something new. Because I’m a bit like Gideon, needing a sign, I asked God to send a breeze if He was going to do something new. It was a prayer in which I was asking for a sign of hope. But certainly not one I genuinely expected Him to answer.

By the end of mile three, a nice, cool breeze was blowing. As Mark and I turned to start the fourth mile, the breeze continued. I started looking around and couldn’t quite believe my eyes. I tapped Mark on the arm and said, Do you feel the breeze? He replied that he did. Then, I turned his attention to the many trees on either side of us. Not a single leaf was moving. We were met with a cool breeze the entire fourth mile, yet the trees showed absolutely no sign of wind.

I continued to run, but in my heart, I was on my knees with tears streaming down my face. I was completely overwhelmed with the kindness of God. My heart was captured by the One who gave me such an intimate gift…a sign of hope.

I may not have been in a church service this morning, but I worshipped the Spirit who moves as the wind…wherever He wants, whenever He wants, and upon whomever He wants. And while I may not have had the opportunity to sing with my voice, my soul was singing praises.